


Remains

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic, M/M, Married Life, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4062034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt and Hermann wrap Christmas presents and talk about death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remains

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for a prompt: "Newmann fluffy death. Just bittersweet with an emphasis on sweet." Many thanks to Skylanth for being my consultant for all things both science and fluff.

Hermann leapt from his chair to save the teetering stack of presents from crashing to the floor. “I’ve got it under control!” Newt insisted, as Hermann slapped one hand atop the highest box, which towered over Newt’s head, and with the other hand stabilized the buckling stack. 

“Of course you do,” Hermann said dryly, and helped Newt get the boxes safely onto the dining room table. 

Hermann picked one of the smaller presents to start with. “What kind of paper do you think your cousin would like?” 

“The penguins,” Newt said, pointing. “She likes penguins.” 

Hermann unrolled the penguin wrapping paper and spread it across the table. He placed the gift, a set of sleep-sensing EEG headphones, on top, ensuring that there would be enough paper to fit around the box both lengthwise and widthwise. 

Meanwhile, Newt picked up the little tape dispenser and cut a piece of tape, anticipating the moment when he would be useful. Hermann was better at wrapping presents so that they looked nice, but Newt liked to help. After a few seconds, however, with the piece of tape waiting on his thumb, Newt got bored, and began to fiddle with his ring, twisting it around and around his finger. Tactful as ever, he said, “Hey listen, I was thinking, we should probably at some point talk about what to do if one of us dies.” 

Hermann cut the wrapping paper with precision, ensuring that the side flaps would measure to just under the depth of the box, and would not end up lumpy when they were folded. “Newton, we _just_ got married. I’m sorry to say this, but we’re going to be stuck with each other for a long time. Tape, please.” 

“I know that.” While Hermann held the flap on the underside of the box to keep it smooth, Newt placed the tape over it. “I want to be stuck with you. But now that we’re in charge of each other, we have to make sure that our final wishes get carried out and stuff. I mean, what if I got hit by a bus tomorrow?” 

“That would be quite a feat, seeing as how this morning you told me your plans for tomorrow were to stay in the house all day and go on a raid with your guild. Did you mean that your Blood Elf might be hit by a bus? Tape, please.” 

Newt fixed another piece of tape over the edge of the neatly folded trapezoid as Hermann held it against the side. “I just want to make sure that if one of us goes, the other knows what to do with their remains.” 

“The wills we signed when we joined the PPDC are still valid.” Hermann folded the paper at the other end of the box, and asked for another piece of tape. 

“But they only gave us two options, burial or cremation. So, ‘a box’ or ‘a smaller box.’ That’s so boring. You can do _anything_ with your body these days. We could get burial pods and grow trees, or we could donate ourselves to a university. Like, what would you want to do?” 

Hermann set aside the wrapped present, and began to reach for the second, but paused for a moment to look wistfully out the window at the night sky. Newt turned to follow his gaze. “Aw, you want to go to space! We can do that! There’s a company that’ll send your ashes into space, just like they did all the Star Trek people. Is that what you’d like?” 

With a brief sniffle and a clearing of his throat, Hermann said, “I think I would like that, yes, if it’s alright with you.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

Spreading out another roll of wrapping paper, Hermann said matter-of-factly, “Well, then I wouldn’t be around for you anymore, would I?” 

Newt watched Hermann take the second box, an oak cutting board, and fold the paper over it. “I guess so. But how about if we send half your ashes into space, and the other half can stay here with me?” 

“That would be fine. Tape, please.” 

“If you’re sure, you know, that it wouldn’t mess up your afterlife or something like that, to have your remains in two different places.” 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t.” 

“Cool.” Newt tore off two more pieces of tape, and dutifully stuck them to the flaps per Hermann’s instructions. “Oh man, this is so exciting. You’re gonna go to space!” 

Hermann looked at Newt over his glasses and admonished him with a pointed finger. “Not for a very long time.” 

“Of course not.” Newt had three pieces of tape stuck on his fingers now, and wiggled them. “So, can I tell you what I want?” 

“Tell me, darling, what is it that you want?” Setting aside the wrapped gift, Hermann went smoothly for the next one. 

“Okay, so you can do pretty much anything with your ashes. You can have them mixed into paint and make yourself into a painting, or you can have them compressed into a diamond…but what I want is to be turned into a vinyl record!” 

“Naturally,” Hermann said, his hands moving more swiftly now, having found a comfortable rhythm. “Tape, please.” 

“I found a place online that does it. They can make your ashes into like, thirty records, and you can even choose what music you want them to play! So your loved ones can listen to the music and remember you and stuff.” 

“Yes, your thirty closest friends and relatives, who I’m sure all own record players.” Hermann rolled his eyes and continued with the task at hand, deftly folding the perfectly straight flaps and the neat little corners, and waiting for Newt . “I assume that you already have your music all picked out, then?” 

“It’s gonna be the Black Velvet Rabbits, of course.” 

“Good god,” Hermann sighed. “You couldn’t have picked some music that your loved ones would actually want to listen to? Tape, please.” 

“Hey man, the Black Velvet Rabbits had literally _dozens_ of fans.” The table was getting cluttered, so between distributing bits of tape, Newt stacked the finished presents up, widest on the bottom. “One night, there were more people in the audience than there were in the band!” He paused briefly to reflect on this. “It was glorious. But listen! I won’t have all my ashes made into records. Just half of them. And then my other half will get mixed with your other half when we’re both gone. So we can still be together forever and stuff.” 

“Alright, it’s agreed then. After the holidays are over and things have calmed down, we’ll see about making arrangements for all of that.” Hermann set aside the gift he’d just finished, and reached for another, the last one to be wrapped. 

As he turned it over in his hands, something caught his eye. “Newton,” he said, so calmly that Newt knew he was in trouble. “Did you take the price tags off all of the boxes yesterday, like I asked you to?” 

“Um,” said Newt.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> berlynn-wohl.tumblr for more of this sort of nonsense.


End file.
